Resident Evil: Chain Reaction
by RamenKitty
Summary: Long awaited update:: Taking place seven years after the original games(during the timeline with Leon in South America) Several Characters discover that Umbrella can never be dead and gone...
1. Closed With Tears and Rain

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A/N: Warnings ahead.  This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction including Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine, and the other members of the decimated STARS team.  Any comments, criticism, and such are greatly appreciated.  I would especially love for somebody who can find me a good web page with their character vital stats.

            The story takes place seven years after the Raccoon city incident that puts Sherry at 19, Claire at 26, and Wesker at 45.  I mention these since they are the main characters in the story.  This story (As you are about to see) is also EXTREMELY dark.  It starts out with a major character death.  Expect trauma and all sorts of other dark human emotions-you have been warned. 

Disclaimer: Resident Evil all rights and privileges thereof are copyright Capcom international (Long may they reign) the characters of Dr. Kevin Lancaster, Ramirez, the police department of Wolf's Bluff Ohio, the staff of the Horizon Chemical Foundation (Including the board of directors) are as of this moment copyright me.  Inferences are to be taken with a grain of salt, I'm building cities out of sand and you can't expect it all to be perfect can you?

Chapter one: Closed with tears and Rain. 

--------------------------

Too many weeds in the flowers

Too many pills in the pharmacy

Too many bugs in the shower

There's to much shit in the air we breath… 

You try to help

You listen well

You cannot change the way I see

-Therapy" Smile Empty soul. 

----------------------

Rain

            The world outside was shrouded in wet soft sheets that clouded over the eyes of its participants and pushed them through the area quickly.  Inside the café however the world was warm and soft.  The fragrant scent of rich, exotic blends of coffee permeated the air and it's inhabitants-leaving them smelling like crushed coffee beans.  All were content; everything was in its place-from those inside warming themselves with exotic brews, and those outside passing hurriedly through the world. 

The woman at the café ignored the wet passerby and set her automatic motion machine again, the clicks keeping her calm.  She click-clacked a few keys on her new laptop-continuing her letter. 

That's how the story began, with a click.

            "FREEZE!"

The inhabitants of the dark café screamed in terror.  An "armed assailant" wrapped in a thick black coat to shroud him from the world outside raised a weapon defiantly and shot the cashier.  He glared around wildly-daring the inhabitants of the smoky speakeasy to speak against his actions. 

            "Jesus!" a man cried, "You shot him!"

The assailant repeated the process again.  More people screamed, a little girl clutched at her mother's skirt and began to wail in a high pitched, keening voice.  

            "SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT-"

No calming him, no resolution.  He was cornered, most likely doped up-a depressed teenager moving in a world where nobody really cared about his problems.  Unknown to the sixteen people that would die today, he would get off on a technicality because he was only 17 and came from a troubled home.

The woman closed the laptop as the teenager in his psychotropic wonderland began to peg more of the café inhabitants.  People on the street now, peered through the wet shrouds and hurriedly grabbed for cellular phones, calling the police.

"ALL OF YOU CAN FUCKING GO TO HELL-AND THEN-AND THEN-"

The woman stood.  Writing an armistice for the private world war hell occurring about her. 

            "Nobody has to die today." She said softly, soothing him-caressing him with her calm, reasonable voice, "If you put down the gun.  I want to help you, I want to understand."

Being the sort of teenager common for these times, the young man studied this supposed Angel of Mercy, surrounded by the others, bleeding from various wounds.  He was part of the electronic sex, information generation.  This Deux ex Machina wouldn't fool him.

            "No you don't." he said as he raised the gun, "You can die too."

In defense of this man it must be said that he truly did desire assistance.  However like so many when confronted with a situation that did not merit reality and rationality, he had come to a realization.

He had power

And he liked it.

And no smart-ass bitch, with her calming voice and her police badge was going to take it away from him!

            "Fucker!" The manager leapt over the counter, tackling the boy.  

"Get your-hands-OFF!"

"Stop." The Angel continued, "Nobody has to die today-"

But neither man paid her heed. 

The scuffle was brief.  The papers would sum the life and death struggle up in a single line: " Store manager Brandon Jones struggled with the assailant Michael Williams for the gun to no avail." 

"Stop!" the woman rushed forward and screamed as he pulled the gun upward shooting directly into her breast-upward into her chin.  She dropped like a redwood tree. 

            The rest of the incident was seen in a haze of red for Michael Williams.  Bodies became things as he continued firing, watching the violence explode from backs and legs and arms and heads.  He played video games-he knew where the body had to go down in order to go down permanently. 

"That's it." He looked back, breathing heavily, excited by what he'd done, "That's all of them."

            He glanced toward the cash register, unimportant.  There was still some moaning-towards the back where the mother cradled her daughter's heart wound-as if clutching her chest would prevent the blood from spurting out from between her fingers.

"Nothing else." He had to leave soon.  Outside was filling with cars. 

            He grabbed a table and heaved mightily, setting up a barricade against the oncoming police.  He cleared the floor of tables, stacking one against another-the adrenaline giving him superman strength.  He flung bodies next-grabbing the angel of Mercy first-and stacking a stockbroker still clutching his cell phone against her. 

"Pretty." He studied the angel of mercy, "Maybe I should have fucked you first."

            Wasn't that what the bad guys did? They raped the women before taking them-made them pay for living-for thinking they were better.  He wasn't bad though, these people had to die so that…

He shook his head and lifted her chin up to meet his eyes.  Her face was pale, her jaw slack.  She wore sky blue and white and a black mini skirt that was just begging to be investigated.

"Fucking whore."

            That's what she probably was, a whore who slept with other men.  Hell, killing her was a public service.  They'd reward him.

He nodded, yes, reward.

            "Wh-Wh-"

He turned around and fired-the red haze returning as he repeated the process once again-making sure that whoever or whatever spoke was completely dead.

Perhaps it was his conscious.

            Taking one last look at his handy-work he dove out the back careful to take the keys from the body of the store manager-eyes glazed and jaw slack from their confrontation.

----------

BAM!

BAMM!

BAM-WHACK!

            The barricade of bodies and table came down like the walls of Jericho as the city's SWAT team unit swarmed in.  

Jesus, Mary, and mother-fucking Joseph. The captain swore and crossed himself, hoping to ward away the daemons in the scene around him, What the fuck happened? 

            No gas. A second SWAT member appeared behind him, We can take off the helmets. 

He pulled off his helmet and looked back at his compatriots.  Uniformed officers and fellow SWAT members swarmed over the hole like ants. 

"We confirm no survivors with heat-vision." A Mexican man came up behind his boss, his black hair slicked back with gel, "Whoever did um in, did um in clean."

            "Witnesses say that it was a kid." The woman peered behind the counter, "He got the cashier too-pegged her right in the throat."

"Are we looking at a drug hit? The captain asked, "Anybody here that homicide or vice knows?"

            "No." A detective in a trench coat appeared at the mention of "Homicide, "And I doubt we'll find anyone.  Witnesses confirm that it was a boy-sixteen probably seventeen."

            "You mean people saw him and didn't try to do anything?" The SWAT captain said, incredulous, "What the hell is wrong with this fucking country?"

CSI swarmed in, a few hesitating as they saw the mother and child, and a few other teenagers clustered in the corner.

            "Doesn't look like there's any motive at all to this." The detective said to his partner, "Just senseless violence."

"Sometimes that's the worst kind." The partner picked up a bloodstained newspaper, "Looks like somebody was boning up on local news-"

The headline read, in big black letters 

UMBRELLA INCORPORATED FACES ANTI-TRUST AND CRIMINAL CHARGES.

            "Looks like the world is going to hell in a hand basket then." The SWAT captain said, "Ramirez, do we have egress?"

"Whoever did it-" The Mexican man appeared back in the direction of the Rest rooms, "Left out the back.  Dumbshit didn't even lock the door."

            "Alright." The detective held up a badge, "I'm Alan Johansson with homicide.  I want prints, DNA, investigation of personal affects.  We're going to nail this fucker before he can do this again if he wants too. Get me? SWAT-I want you to head back to the station and get patrol to set up roadblocks around the area.  I want a detailed perimeter search, I have yet to figure out what else I want-but I want IDS on the victims…as soon as possible." Here Alan let his badge drop and sighed heavily, "Lets make the fucker pay who did this."

The police nodded, a general consensus amongst their employees.  They began to work quickly, with a frenzy born of the fear of what they saw around them.  

"Sir?" 

Johansson stepped gingerly over a dead mother and child and acknowledged Ramirez.  The young SWAT officer had taken up a position nearest the door examining the bodies flung aside by the entrance of the heroes. 

            "What is it Ramirez?"

Ramirez's dark face was unusually pale.  He pointed down at the body of one of the victims, her face an oozing puddle of red blood and gray matter.  A single glassy eye remained-staring up at the two of them, ignoring the gaping wound in her chest.

            "What is it?" Johansson asked, "Do we have an ID?"

Ramirez licked his lips, "We might."

"What do you mean?"

"I… I think I know her sir.  Dios…I do know her.  My god…he'll be-devastated-"

"Ramirez, who is this?"

"Jesus-she was so young too-they just had a baby-I have no-my god…"

"RAMIREZ!" Johansson grabbed the younger man by the shoulders and shook him, "Who is this girl?"

            "Jill Valentine sir." Ramirez closed his eyes tightly, tears sliding down his cheeks.

----------------

Claire Redfield ignored the scenery passing to her left.  She focused intently on the headlines again, clarifying the horrific reality

**Mass Murder at Wonderland Café-13 DEAD**

By Terri Morales 

Thursday, citizens were shocked to open their own newspapers and read over their cups of coffee about the events that transpired the evening beforehand at the Wonderland café-a new chain owned and operated by STARBUCKS incorporated.  According to eyewitness reports, a young man wearing a large black coat entered the café at about five thirty and began a shooting spree that would claim thirteen lives including those of the employees.  Police say that a struggle ensued, most likely between the store manager Brandon Jones and the assailant.  The assailant has been identified as 17-year-old Michael Williams-a resident of Wolf's Bluff Ohio.  Store Manager Brandon Jones struggled with assailant Michael Williams to no avail as he too was gunned down.

Among the victims was STARS officer Jill Valentine Redfield-

Claire hadn't been able to get any farther.  

The Saturday landscape sped past her as she leaned against the chair heavily and tried to think of what she'd say to her brother.

_Chris…my god… _there wasn't much she could say.  It was only in the last year that they had finally admitted their feelings and gotten married.  9 months after the wedding Claire had become the proudest Aunt the world had ever seen as Young Rebecca Redfield was delivered to a joyful and ready family.  The sins of the past were gone.  Umbrella was a shadow now; Claire hadn't even been in touch with Sherry-

            _What would she say about it? _She knew what it was like to loose someone she loved.  But Chris who had given up so much…their parents-and now Jill-

_What would happen if I died?_

The train came to a sudden halt, like the end she supposed.  Claire shook her head as the automatic car began announcing their destination Wolf's Bluff in big red letters.  

            "Thank you for traveling with TIGER transportation today." A smiling attendant said, "Enjoy! Good-bye now! Good bye!"

The various passengers responded with grunts and groans as they unloaded their baggage.  Claire grabbed her backpack nodding once to the attendant as she stepped off the platform.

_There. _

            She could have picked her brother out of a crowd easily.  His face was worn, drawn with many wrinkles that only age and grief would bring a man.  His brown hair laid flat against his head-the dreary rain that had been soaking the city turned him into a gray ghost.  In one hand-like a forgotten suitcase was a baby-carrying device.

"Chris!"

            She jogged towards him-stopping a few inches away from her big brother.  Her senses were heightened by a smell that brought back awful memories of her father from their childhood.

"You've been drinking." Chris had seen how depressed his father had gotten after drinking.  He had always sworn he never would touch the stuff.

            Now he reeked of it, his eyes bloodshot-red from crying.  Claire looked down at the baby in the bassinet and back at her brother.  He saw through her.  

"Oh Chris…"

            "Hey Claire." Her brother's voice sounded harsh, alien-as if it hadn't been used, "How are you?"

They embraced.

            Chris's body shook and he began to cry.  Train passengers looked at them strangely-detecting the odor of the man before moving on.  A security guard peered closely at them before moving off.

            A great sorrow descended upon the train yard.  Even to those not involved it was as if they were absorbing some great injustice-and each day was darkened by it slightly.  Rebecca began to sniffle as Chris let go of his sister-wiping his eyes with a harried handkerchief.

"It-Its-good to see you sis." 

Claire nodded.

            " I haven't trusted myself to drive these past couple of days." He nodded, confirming his beliefs to himself, "I'd probably run into a tree or something." He tried to laugh and coughed instead, "I got us a cab-"

            "How's…Becky?"

"See for yourself." Chris handed the baby off to her.

            Rebecca was a delightful creature.  She had her father's strong-determined blue eyes and her mother's soft brown hair and face.  A tiny hand waved-recognizing distantly on some plain of understanding a familiar figure.

"Hi Becky." Claire followed her bother-ignoring him as he raised his arms for a cab, "How are you Becky-Boo?" her voice choked.  She looked so much like Jill…

            "Claire?"

Claire ignored her brother, wrapped up in her niece.

            "Becky hungry? Is Becky happy? Happy Becky-"

"Claire-" The rain came down harder now.  Chris looked at his sister with dead eyes, "The cab."

She looked up dumbfounded.

            "What?"

"The cab." A yellow vehicle stood parked before them, "We need to go."

            "Okay." Reluctantly she handed Becky off to Chris and shouldered her own backpack as the cab driver pulled open his door and peered about.

"Any bags for y'all?"

            "No." Claire shook her head, "Just my pack."

"I'll put it in the back for you." He extended a hand, "Want to make sure the baby's secure and all that."

            "Sure." She nodded and slipped it off her shoulders.  Her black t-shirt was soaked by now, she wouldn't be surprised if she finished the week off with a cold.

"So," The driver said jovially, "Did you hear about those murders? What a nasty business…"

----------------------

Horizon Chemical Foundation

Executive offices and headquarters: Los Vegas Nevada 

The labyrinth hallways of the interior of the Horizon Chemical Foundation stood in sharp contrast to the neon playground of the world outside.  Hiding something so deadly in plain sight had seemed incredibly…perverse to David Swanson in the beginning.  Now he found it pleasing.  Should anything happen to the thousands of partygoers and reality-haters in the world around them, HCF could defend them.

He truly wanted to believe that.

            However the man who he was going to see was living proof that they were just as susceptible to darkness and evil as the people outside.  He raised a swarthy hand before the black oak door and hesitated-just before knocking.

A green light next to him clicked on.  

So, Albert Wesker had heard him.

            "Good Evening sir." David said as the door opened, "I was just-"

_Something _rushed out of the darkness at him.  A large green and black blur with six-inch claws shrieked and dove at him again.

David raised his Glock to his head and prepared to fire.

"Stop Achilles."

The green and black blur subsided.  The creature looked back mournfully to the man in the back of the room and slunk aside.

"David.  So I'm being summoned to yet another Board meeting?"

David, whose pants were considerably damp, nodded once. 

            The man who stepped out of the darkness looked much the same as he did seven years ago on the iron deck of the remains of Umbrella's Antarctica base.  The area around his right eye however was a mottled battleground of black scars.  Where normal red human tissue should have healed over the burn wounds-the skin had become black and green and covered with a mis-mashing of scales.

            "Are you-Are you going to bring that _thing _with you?" David stuttered-glancing fearfully at Achilles the Hunter-who sat contentedly in a corner picking something unnatural out of his long claws.

"Achilles? While I would enjoy watching the rest of the board of directors wet themselves as you just did-" here he glanced down disapprovingly, "He will remain here.  He likes dark places."

_As do you. _

            When HCF had first hired Albert wesker, he was seen as an asset.  A Valuable contributing member of a rising company.  However the long-term affects of the viral contagion that he had injected himself with were becoming more pronounced.  It seemed (Or at least that was what the private scientists said) that it was a slow acting version of the G-Virus.

Which meant that eventually, Albert Wesker would go the way of his colleagues in Raccoon…

            _We'll be ready for it. _David followed Albert Wesker at a discreet distance; _He can't double cross HCF the way he did Umbrella…_

"I would like a copy of the paper brought to me today as soon as possible." Wesker said, "I've been in the lab researching the upgraded version of your Chimeras and I would like to catch up on what's going on in the outside world."

            "Not much I'm afraid." David chuckled, "Although there was an awful murder spree in Wolf's Bluff Ohio.  That's basically all the papers have been talking about."

            "Really?" Wesker turned to him; his shades were disconcerting when combined with the mottled skin of his face, "What happened?"

"Thirteen people were killed." David turned a corner, down into the lab areas.  It was lunch time-so the normally busy hubs of activity were silent as the grave, "One was really famous."

            "Who?"

He scrunched up his face, "That chick…" he laughed, "I think you knew her- she was the one who got out of Raccoon City alive."

Wesker stopped.  David kept moving, talking all the while.

            "Her name was Valentine! Yes Jill Valentine.  She had that high profile marriage to that guy who used to be in the STARS unit in that city- Redfield or something.  Anyway she got shot straight up through the head and left her kid behind.  All the papers are playing and the teacher who was pregnant up through the press.  She apparently tried to do something and-"

Wesker began to laugh.

            David turned around both slightly repulsed and confused.  Various scientists stopped their return to their work and frowned-staring at the scene before moving on talking in hushed groups of two or three.  

            "Oh how devastated Christopher will be." Wesker smirked, "Devastated-so he married valentine hmm? She was a fine officer." He held up a hand, removing his glasses.  David shivered and instinctively turned away-his eyes were so so inhuman. 

"What's the matter Mr. Swanson?"

David shook his head, clearing his face of the mixture of repulsion and pity he felt.

            " You don't like what you see?" Wesker took a step closer placing himself almost instantaneously in front of the younger man, taking pleasure in his squirming. 

"You're repulsed"

"No-no-n-no sir." David shook his head quickly, "Just-um-allergies." He pulled out a handkerchief and coughed unconvincingly, "My eyes-um-water-yeah-" he nodded, "Eyes."

Wesker lowered his head for a moment, then nodded-accepting some cold fact of the world.  He studied the younger man with an unreadable look. 

"Repulsion is quite normal Mr. Swanson.  Let us continue to the board of directors." He put his sunglasses back on and motioned toward the retreating hallway-the chaos of the world returning to normality around them.

"Lead the way."

----------------------

A/N: There's chapter one! What did you think? I know the death of Jill Valentine will put off a lot of people-but bear with me, Rebecca Redfield is still around.  It didn't make any sense to me that the STARS were so…invincible.  They had to go down, and what better way to go down then by some crazy kid?  


	2. Interlude in a lovely boneyard

Disclaimer: Resident Evil doesn't belong to me that's obvious.  I do enjoy playing it however, I am stuck on code veronica though…dang it! 

To PBS-I thought long and hard about what you wrote as a review. It really hurt my feelings. My imagination is my best quality-as some people have said. Then I realized that it doesn't matter what you think, it only matters what I THINK and that I'm going to ignore you like I keep telling everybody else to do. You have good taste ***points to inoculations*** I'll give you that much. And Yeah-none of what I write is really original. So maybe I don't have any imagination. S'okay. 

_"And when the people come out of the walls," shouted the biggest, fattest wolf, flinging aside the Tuba, "It's all over!"_

- _"The wolves in the walls" by Neil Gaiman _

------------------

"Sherry?" 

            Kate Birkin peeked her head in to her niece's bedroom.  Her brown hair done up behind her kindly round face.  Her large green eyes shown like a myopia victim's.  The room's occupant was listening to music, typing hurriedly away at a computer keyboard.

"SHERRY!"

            Sherry turned about and studied her aunt carefully.  A faded family photograph was clutched in a single hand-the faces frozen forever in beaming smiles.  Kate winced-as usual she had forgotten that today-

"Yes Aunt Kate?"

            "There's um-breakfast downstairs for you.  J. J. and Dennis were hoping you'd come down for a game of ball later." 

"Maybe." She turned her attention back to the computer screen.  As she'd grown older her face had taken on more of the characteristics of her father-but her mother's pale countenance still shown through like a star.  Her short hair was bobbed-already gelled and styled behind her head. 

"Did Uncle Jack leave already?"

            When Jack Birkin had heard what his older brother had been doing at Umbrella-he refused to speak William's name.  Kate clutched at her heart and remembered how Jack had stared at her with hopeless, downcast eyes.  He had looked up to his brother-even going so far as to go into the same science fields.  He had joined the police force however-while William-

"Please Sherry." Kate moved forward, putting a hand on her niece's slim shoulder, "Please come down to breakfast."

            "Later." She growled, "I'm almost done."

That girl Claire had explained the situation to them after bringing Sherry into her custody.  She would not say how the girl had come here two years after her parent's death-but she had taken Jack and Kate aside and explained what had happened to William, and his wife Annette.

"The comfort is…" Claire had lain a hand on Kate's Shoulder, "I'm sure he died when they shot him." 

            Jack said nothing.  He'd gotten into his car and driven away and not been back until late evening, staring at Sherry with a mix of revulsion and pity.  Sherry had born it well, refusing to answer questions about where she'd been for that two years-

But that was all in the past. 

Sherry had lived with them since then, a constant reminder of the member of the family they all missed.  Jack barely spoke to her-all the pictures of William, Annette, and Sherry together were removed from the house and taken away to an undisclosed location.  Jack forbid the family to mention them in the house…

"They're dead." Jack had said, when she asked him why he was being so hard about it, "As far as I'm concerned they're going to stay dead."

"…Going out soon-"

Kate blinked at Sherry, dumbfounded, "What?"

            "I said I'm going out soon." She slipped on a thigh-length fur-lined coat.  She wore some confection of black which Kate could not remember her bringing home, "Michelle, Mica, and Stephanie and I are going to the movies."

            "This early?"

Sherry shrugged and grabbed her purse off the computer desk.  Her DVD collection reposed on the top shelf, followed by a selection of books from various authors.  She didn't bother to turn off the CD as she checked her cell-phone's battery and studied her aunt with serious eyes.

            "Its some new thing that Mica said they're going to start selling at circuit city.  Hologram TVS.  He wants to buy one." 

            "So you're leaving at-what-nine in the morning?"

She nodded once and turned on her heel, ignoring her aunt as she exited the room.  

            Kate stood for a moment, reflecting on the room and its details.  Sherry apparently did not believe in material possessions.  Stacks of textbooks were on the untidy bed along with some sort of stuffed creature that Michelle must have made for her.  Necklaces, make up, newspaper clipping-

_Clipping? _Kate stepped closer.  The CD player had switched the melodious sounds of Madonna. 

Murder at wonderland café-13 dead 

By Jenny Garstang, AP writer. 

Citizens of Wolf's Bluff Ohio mourned the passing of thirteen locales today at a large public ceremony presided over by the mayor of the city.  Although Wolf's Bluff is slowly expanding due to the influx of Horizon Chemical Employees-

The rest of the article had been torn off.  The newsprint was blackened with ink, a note written in scrawling letters. 

"What's this? 10:30 train…"

_Sherry! _

_------------------------_

Sherry Birkin shouldered her purse and pulled out her cell phone. 

            _"Call if you need anything." Claire handed her a thin slip of paper, "I'm not going to abandon you after getting you back so easily."_

_Sherry nodded dumbly, taking the paper and wincing at the claptrap two-story house where the rest of her relatives resided.  She barely remembered her cousins-_

_"Claire! I want to stay with you!"_

_            Claire covered a look of regret with a disapproving frown; "Sherry-your father's will specifically stated that you are to be given into custody of your Aunt and Uncle if anything should happen to he and your mom-"_

_"But I want-"_

_            "I know…" Claire smiled sadly and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.  She had saved Sherry, and she now felt personally more responsible for her welfare.  But now…_

Sherry shook her head grimly and put the cell phone back in her pocket.  She was going to Wolf's Bluff because Claire needed her.  She looked back at Los Angeles and for a moment wished desperately that she could stay, or that she could have shared her plans with Jack and Kate…

Kate would tell me to be careful and probably come with me.  Uncle Jack looks at me and sees…

Her reflection caught itself in a train-yard window.  Her short hair, all black attire, and pale complexion stared back at her with her dark-sorrowful blue eyes.

_Dad._

She turned back just as the sun rose higher in the horizon.  Ignoring the sounds of sirens, she stepped closer to the train. 

"Last call," A man in a blue suit walked back and forth like the watchmen of old, "Last call for the 10:30 train to Squirrels Peak, Wolf's Bluff, Wild Cat falls and Kookamunga."

He spotted Sherry.

"Any bags miss?"

            "They've been sent on ahead." Sherry said in a cool voice, "I'm moving."

"Ah." He responded, not caring, "Lovely day for it too."

She placed a careful hand on the railing, as the sounds of sirens grew louder.  She turned for one last look at her home for five years before stepping into the dark recesses of the train.

--------------

Wolf's Bluff Ohio

Saint Peters Church of the Resurrection 

"The deceased was well loved." The priest said, clutching his bible for comfort, "By…by myself as well as members of the congregation." 

            As funerals go, the passing of Jill Valentine, STARS agent, Police officer-was marked with special magnificence.  The entire Police Department of Wolf's Bluff Ohio had turned out in full dress uniform.  The Pall-bearers-two male and two female-carried her up the aisle with the slow dignity that police officers mustered for one of their fallen.  

"She will be missed, by family…"

Christopher Redfield marched up the aisle alone.  Rebecca Redfield was carried up the aisle by her father-her white christening dress in stark contrast to those dressed in black and uniform around her.

Behind him Claire followed-wearing a short black confection.  

"She will be missed by friends…"

            The SWAT team that had found the body was seated towards the back.  Detective Johansson grimacing.  The need for vengeance burned in each officer present.

This was unforgivable

One of their own had been slaughtered and they had not yet caught the culprit…

            "Today…we…mourn…" The priest coughed into his hand.  He had adopted the Redfield's into his flock, baptized their daughter.  He had hoped to see them at her wedding, hoped to have his successors preside over their deaths once he had passed to the lord…

            "Today we mourn the passing of Jill Valentine.   Wife, Mother, and friend." He bowed his head, "I am the resurrection and the light, to know me is to know you.  To have faith in me is to have faith that in the end none shall perish but have everlasting life, Amen." 

A mumbled Amen from the congregation.  He turned to Chris Redfield.

            "And now, is there anyone here who would say words of those who have passed?" 

Comrades, friends, co-workers came forward.  Those who spoke were quickly overcome with tears, leading themselves away from the closed coffin.

            Claire stared at her feet.  She had seen death-then the resurrection of the dead…it didn't seem right that Jill had fallen in the prime of life…her daughter left behind."

_It's not right. _ She looked up and wiped her eyes, her brother a stone wall beside her _Oh Jill…_

She frowned.  A dark shape stood behind the weeping mourners-next to the baptismal font.  She knew that outline-the memory brought her back to the cold shivering world of Antarctica-

"Claire!"

            Claire exploded from her stationary position, bolting down the aisle filled with black roses outside into the sunshine.  Chris frowned-looking back after her with confused eyes, the baby began to mewl in his arms.

"Give her time my friends…" the priest consoled, "Give her time…let us return to the ceremony…"        

--------------

"You!"

No, it can't be.  He died-he died- 

He had died, Chris had told her about it in a calm dead, yet accepting voice.  There was no way-no way that he could have somehow-

The figure glanced back and began to walk swiftly away.

            "Stop!" She jogged after him.  He strode up the green hill that perched to the left of the church entrance and down into the cemetery. 

            "Stop!"

He kept walking.

            The sun began to glitter as Claire suddenly sprinted forward, slamming into the offending individual.

"ARRGH!"

It was like hitting a brick wall.

The sheer force of movement brought them both to the ground rolling.  The green "hill" was apparently the side of a much larger mound of earth.  The two began to roll down quickly, the gray gravestone markers blurring by faster and faster-

Until the ride operator turned off the mechanics and slowed them to a screeching halt.

            "Wesker!"

Albert Wesker stood slowly, leaning on a tombstone as he adjusted his tie and affixed his sunglasses to his eyes once again.  He was still the same-the virus that flowed through his veins probably kept him looking as young as he did.  The right side of his face was blackened and covered with tiny-

Scales? 

She shivered.

            "Hello again dear heart." Wesker said coldly, "Would there be any reason why you would attack me in broad daylight?"

"You're dead!"

Here Wesker grimaced, "Yes."

"And…you…"

            "You would be surprised Miss Redfield." He smiled-a cold reptilian thing that made the warm sun turn to snow in the sky, "I'm like a cat, and I always come back."

"What are you doing here?" Claire growled.  All the rage at the murderer of Jill Valentine and all those other people-all the lives that people like him had ended-

            "You BASTARD!"

She launched herself forward screaming-kicking and punching.  She was tired, so tired of death and life and seeing her brother who had been so strong knocked down.  And now this man, this reminder of past evils best forgotten had shown up!  How dare he! How dare he come here now!

            Wesker had no time to throw off her attack as they went to the ground tangled again.  The surge of Adrenaline and hatred gave Claire new strength as she scratched and clawed at him screaming. 

Her screaming turned to sobbing.

            "Do you feel better after attacking me?" He gripped her by the shoulders, intending to throw her off-hopefully hitting that large monument with the angel wings, "If you want a fair fight you'll have to let me get my gun."

"I'm…I'm sorry…"

She leaned against his chest and sobbed.

Wesker, startled by this sudden outpouring of feeling-held Claire tightly, feeling a genuine compassion for this human being and her suffering.

"It'll be okay…" _What do I say to her? What do I do? _He had always left consoling victims to others-William had been particularly adept at it-so had Chris…

Claire looked up and pushed herself away from him-furious.  Wesker removed his sunglasses and studied her-ignoring the pity in her eyes.

            "It was a beautiful service."

"What are you doing here?"

            "Jill valentine was a fine officer."

"What are you doing here!"

            Wesker's eyes narrowed dangerously, " I came to pay-my-respects." He growled, "and to watch your brother suffer.  He looked quite the pitiful figure up there-holding his daughter like that…"

            "If you hurt Rebecca I'll kill you." Claire scooted back up against the edge of the monument; "I will cut your throat, cut off your head and stomp your body into dust.  If you-you-"

" All Redfield's must have your brother's charm." He stood in a swift motion, "If you'll excuse me dear heart-I have another I need to pay my respects too. " he chuckled lightly as he slipped his shades back on, " Don't worry, I promise not to tell your brother of our little interlude in the graveyard-"

"Go to hell!"

_I'm already there._

"Goodbye Miss Redfield."

He turned on his heel and began a leisurely walk away from her-down into the back of the cemetery. 

_I should follow him. _Claire got to her feet slowly _Just-maybe I can catch him-_

No, that was impossible.  He was so strong…

            Dimly she reached down and winced, the area around her knees tender and smeared lightly with blood.  She slipped off her dress shoes and padded quietly after him. 

            There is a peaceful silence to a graveyard, the wind whispering through the trees and the soft patter of the tiny animals who revere the place.  Most humans fear to tread here-or tread very softly.  The respect for lost loved ones was evident in each flower, each carefully placed treasure that those who had left the world that forgotten.  Claire felt touched-distantly touched-as she saw that even a few of the graves who's loved ones had all left the world had flowers on them.  

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Claire!"

            Chris had remained during the ceremony.  Claire's outburst confused the congregation.  Chris had seen the shadowy figure at the back of the church and assumed it was a late arrival.

Claire crested the cemetery hill.  Her short black dress was torn in two places and her nylons had been destroyed.  Her brown hair was undone-the clip she'd worn was gone somewhere in the fields below.

            "Hi Chris…" Claire smiled.  _How do I say that Wesker was here?_ "I…um…"

"Officer Redfield." A thin man in a uniform appeared at his side like a shadow, "I wish to extend my condolences on behalf of the Wolf's Bluff police department…"  
Chris grimaced, "Thank you-chief Blackwood-"

            "Jill was a good friend and a fine officer," 

"Your opinion is appreciated however-"

            "Chris-you take all the time you need,"

"I need to speak with Jill alone." Chris said coldly, "If you please."

            The chief frowned, and Jill stared at her brother in shock.  Chris never spoke sharply to anybody-let alone someone in a position of authority.

"I'm sorry." Chris looked at him with wounded eyes, "It…It's been a long day and I need to get my sister and my daughter home."

            "Sure." The chief tentatively patted his shoulder, "I'll-I'll be in touch."

"Thanks." 

Chris pulled the chief into an embrace, much to the discomfort of Rebecca who was suddenly caught between two full-grown males.  She began to wail-and wailings turned into full on screams as the wet droplets began to fall from the sky.

"I'll take her." Claire said, reaching forward for little Becky, "Are you going to call us a cab?"

"I guess." Chris studied his sister suspiciously, but said nothing.  He reached into his pocket and removed one of the new "smart" phones. 

"2336 Cab Company."

Dialing. 

Claire clutched Becky to her chest and tried not to hear her brother's silence.

-----------------

"Calverton County." 

            A few passengers began to unload bags and possessions.  Sherry immersed herself in her new Chuck Palahniuk book and tried not to think about her Aunt and Uncle's frantic search back home.

Well, it would most likely be Aunt Kate searching…Uncle Jack didn't believe she existed just like his fictional brother…

            She sighed and flipped to another page.  This looked interesting.  The hero was just about to be captured by the physician who was hunting him.  The young woman (The physician) firmly believed that within the heroes blood there was some sort of chemical that would save her own boy-a child of six.

She sighed, "Why would anybody-"

            "Hi." 

Sherry looked up.

            A tall, non-descript individual appeared in the aisle of the train.  Sherry lowered her sunglasses, peering up and down at the man, who smiled widely. There was something very familiar about him…

"I'm Alan.  Can I sit down?"

            "It's a public train." Sherry sighed and returned to her book when she heard a sound that froze her heartbeat and lungs.

A gun.

            "I have the gun under a newspaper." Alan said smiling, "If you struggle then there will be a scene and I will be forced to shoot a lot of innocent people.  If you come with me now Miss Birkin there will be no harm done to you-or to any of the passengers on this train."  

This was all said in a whisper, that stupid smirk still on his pale moon face.  Sherry took a deep-ragged breath and squeaked.  

            "The little boy who is sitting next to you is named Todd." Alan said, enjoying her torment, "His favorite toy is a plastic dinosaur named Rex.  He showed it too you just as we got onto the train." Here Alan looked positively evil, enjoying her suffering, "He is traveling alone because his father works in Wolf's Bluff.  His mother will be meeting him at the train station."

"What-Wha-Wha-what are you getting a-a-at?"

            "Simply this." Alan cocked the gun under his newspaper, "Would you like Miss Jones to meet her son, or his corpse?"

Sherry digested this, and slowly raised her arms to him in a gesture of defeat. 

"Sorry!" Alan held onto Sherry's arm in a deathlike grip.  He gripped her around the shoulders so that he pressed the gun into her ribs painfully.  

            "What's that?" The conductor stepped over, rubbing his baldhead, "What's going on?"

            "I'm her uncle Mark from Wolf's Bluff-I just flew out to meet her-she'll be flying the rest of the way." 

The conductor frowned, "That true miss?" There was something _funny _about this girl, like she was playing a part in a play, "He your uncle?"

            "Sure." Sherry said, halfheartedly, "Good old Uncle Mark and his hunting habits.  He likes to come out here and do some hunting."

"Come along now-"

            "He really likes hunting." Sherry said again as "Mark" began to drag her away, "I mean REALLY he has guns everywhere in his house, permits-PERMITS to carry guns in the woods, in the cities-"

"A real gun nut huh?" The conductor glanced at his watch, and then back at the odd girl who was almost halfway off the train, "He likes to take you hunting?"

            "All the time! Especially in Wolf's bluff! He had friends there!" Now Alan began to drag her off-her pale form a ghost in the dimming light, "Especially in the police department!"

The train whistled.

            "Drop my name! Sherry Birkin! That's SHERRY BIRKIN! You can go to the police to Redfield and say SHERRY BIRKIN!"

The train whistled again and the conductor waved jauntily.  Odd girl that kid.  And that uncle of hers…

            He frowned; maybe he should go to the police station when they got to Wolf's Bluff.  He pulled out his note pad and wrote SHERRY BIRKIN-POLICE? In block letters.  It always helped him when he wrote things down on his notepad. 

He hoped she'd be okay.

---------------------------

A/N: And there's chapter two.  An Introspective Wesker? Sherry getting kidnapped? I promise it'll get more RE shortly.  The year is 2005 in case nobody had figured that out… ^^ 


	3. All the World's a card game

A/N: Well, a long awaited update commencing with the fixing of chapters three and four! All right!

I know its been a monster long time since I've updated-I hope that Posting chapters Five and six can make up for it. XD

Go crazy peoples.

Disclaimer: Resident Evil is copyright Capcom, all rights reserved.

-----------

-------------

Las Vegas Nevada 

_The next day _

Kevin Lancaster yawned, barely covering his mouth with his hand.

Grimly, he returned to his task of copying the latest daily reports into the computer and reposting them again on the Employee assignment task board. He had sixteen people working under him-and he didn't want them to loose face by forgetting to do anything.

Especially after that disastrous performance by Dr. Wesker yesterday at the executive meeting.

_I think he harbors a grudge. _Kevin finished a sentence _a violent and malicious grudge against me. _

Although for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. He had done everything human in his power to make sure that each employee felt happy and comfortable. He dearly loved what he did for a living, and wanted others to feel the same way.

Maybe it was because of the similarities between Wesker and himself...

Kevin was 19, and the youngest researcher employed by the Horizon Chemical Foundation. Before that, he had a successful medical study going at Brown's college of medicine, developing the field of Genetic Pharmacology. Medicine that tailored itself to your specific genetic makeup...

He amused himself by counting the letters and arranging them in interesting combinations. His work was done for the day-and it was barely noon.

He sighed and debated pulling out his sketchbook and heading down to the animal testing room to visit his animals.

"Doctor Lancaster?"

"Yes?" Kevin stood up, book in hand, "Can I help you?"

The man handed him a stack of mail and grinned sheepishly, "Mail call sir, looks like your mother sent a package of cookies from England."

Kevin grinned. Genie often sent him chocolate chip cookies-proud of the work he was doing in the states. He handed the mail-attendant the package.

"Do you want them?"

"You mean that?" The man looked at the package, suspicious, "Your mother makes the-the best cookies."

Kevin laughed, "I know. Just don't eat them in here." He grinned, "What the hell. You've been in here before Bill-just-don't make a mess-" he grabbed a pencil and his keycard, "Huh?"

"Is there anything I-I'd hurt?"

_Besides the plants...I doubt it._

He waved jauntily before leaving.

Nevada was bleak-that was the only thing that had depressed Kevin when he had first arrived. Boston had been lovely, green in spring and covered in snow in the winter. He had begun learning the habits of some of the stricter desert plants so that he could at least make the HCF offices a bit cheerful-but none of the adults seemed to honestly like it. His mother had a huge garden back in their home, and he had a lifelong love of plants and living creatures.

"Good morning Doctor!"

"Good morning!"

"Morning Doc!"

"Morning Kevin!"

"Guten Tag Kevin darling." Said a blond woman approaching from his rear, "You look nice today."

"So do you Helga." _Please leave me alone...please..._

Helga harbored the serious misinterpretation that he was desperately in love with her. After a disastrous incident at the Christmas party- (It had involved a bowl of punch and an ice duck) Kevin had politely explained that he wasn't interested in relationships.

They were too consuming.

"I was just about to head down to the conservatory." She smiled provocatively, "Care to join me?"

"I have-um-a prior engagement in the testing lab." Kevin bowed apologetically, "Shall I join you later? Maybe I could bake something-"

Helga giggled and Kevin frowned, affronted. Everybody-the men and the women seemed to find it terribly amusing that Kevin liked to cook and clean and design. His further refusal to date had given to some nasty suspicions...

"On second thought, I'll just go by myself Doctor." Helga grinned, "Au revoir dear doctor."

"Ciao."

Kevin turned away, grateful.

He ran a hand through his dark brown hair and sighed, contentedly. He wondered if women pursued him because of the family money, the intelligence, or the position that he had at HCF.

He chuckled _If only Dad could see me now..._

Both his father and mother were born into money (very old money, and surprisingly American money) but he had never asked the roots of the issue. He had grown up with ponies and animals for company on their farm in the warm pastures of England-leaving with his father for safari, exploring the avenues of learning in Boston with his mother. But at heart, like most humans when you get right down to it-they were simple people-

"Morning Doctor." The guard smiled at his approach, "You remember your keycard this time?"

Kevin blinked and stared at the impressive, impassive door of the animal holding tanks. Apparently he had become lost in thought again.

"Oh-"he dug around in his pockets, "Oh wait-hold on-"he scrambled frantically. Where was it? It wasn't in his pants pocket; it wasn't in his shirt pocket-it wasn't-

"Around your neck mebbe doc?"

Kevin grinned, "Jerry why do I bother? My head would probably fall off if it wasn't screwed in tightly!"

Jerry grinned, "Whatever the hell you say doc."

Kevin frowned, "Jerry-what did I say? If you want Pam-"he ignored the door opening as he slid his key-card through, "If you want Pam to like you then you've got to, _got _to watch the swearing!"

"Sorry Doc." Jerry grinned, "I keep forgetting."

"Never mind." Kevin had been raised a strict Christian, and although he had fallen out of the faith-he did believe that swearing and the crass "American English" that Americans spoke was the filth of language. He chuckled and waved to a couple of passing scientists who looked confused at his sudden cheerful behavior.

"Something new of Wesker's came in." Jerry said, "One of those "hunter" things."

"Really?" he had heard about the famous genetically modified frogs, but he had yet to see one. After all, such a creature must be incredibly shy since frogs were naturally so-

"Nasty mother- Nasty animal." Jerry grinned again and shifted his weapon to his chest, "Best be careful. Trinity and the others are still there-you were doing some genetic experiments weren't you doc?"

"Well..." Kevin was itching to get a look at this, "Hunter" "Nothing really big Jerry-"

"Hey! I heard you were working on grafting various appendages to-"

Kevin stepped inside and let the door slide shut.

The Hallway before him was painted a solid white-brilliant neon lights flashed upward from the floor below him-dimmed-for the animals safety at his insistence. Many of the other researchers had balked-but the EPA and PETA stayed away from HCF thanks to his interference...

"Interference my rear." Kevin growled, "Saving the poor creatures more like."

He turned to the left and waved to a few of the animals, which perked up at his approach. He stopped before one glass cage, studying the animal carefully inside.

"Hi Trinity..." he said softly, "How are you doing old girl?"

Trinity lifted her great shaggy head and yawned-exposing her deadly canines. Her bite could cut steel-bit through bone like a human eating soup. Her stripes traced delicate black rivers across her orange-red back. She padded closer-sensing a familiar face.

"Hi girl..." he got down on his knees and put a hand up on the glass, "How are we doing today?"

Trinity put a gigantic paw on the glass and let out a mournful moan. She was getting old...

Kevin pushed the thought of her death out of his mind. Nobody would be so cruel to do anything to this poor creature, not even her creator.

Yes, god would not take Trinity, he was sure of it.

"I've got some new friends to visit!" he patted the glass fondly, "I'll come in and see you shortly okay?" He listened to her chuff happily before heading down the hallway towards the unmarked black door at the end. A bored looking guard stood watch-clutching a weapon in his black-gloved hands.

"Hello." Kevin said cheerfully, "I'm Dr. Lancaster. I'd like to take a look at the Hunter specimens please."

"Access code?"

"Um..." he reached around his neck and managed a light chuckle, "Silly me, I forgot it was around my neck again! Did you ever have one of those days-"

"Access code?"

"5557980007." Kevin said, frowning, "What's the matter?"

"Thank you sir." The guard pushed a button at his side and the door slid open with a swish, "Enjoy your research."

Kevin stepped in and frowned-facing the door.

What the hell was his problem? 

He frowned. This area was much like the earlier cages-except instead of being white it was black-with muted soft lighting. He frowned and stepped forward cautiously a deserted receptionist desk.

"Specimens..." he frowned, "Little hunter, little hunter come out and play..."

He reached the first cage. Something small and hunched was staggering about inside. A dingy food bowl filled with a dark red liquid met his vision.

"Hello?" he tapped gently on the glass, "Hello?"

The creature paused in its motions. It sniffled-investigating a patch of something on the floor.

"That's right! I want to be your friend..." he was suddenly aware of how absolutely alone he was-and the soft flickering of the light was doing nothing for his nerves.

_There won't be anyone there if you call for help._

"Really." He scoffed at his brain, "What could it possibly do?" he turned his attention back to the creature in the glass, "Come on boy, or girl? Are you a pretty girl?"

IT came.

It leapt out at him and smacked its head against the glass throwing it aside. Its fangs were open wide, snarling-stained red with some horrific-

He dodged-throwing himself to the left-his fingers brushing up against a stained drain in the center of the room.

"Gods..."

It was a dog, or at least it had been at one point. A German Shepard by the looks of it-but its happy smile was replaced by a lean look of menace. Bone-dear god bone-was exposed in its face-peeling back from one of the eyes-revealing the vital arteries that...

Something in the next cage _hissed _and a pale pink line shot out against the glass. He screamed-tripping over a box someone had left on the floor. He bumped into one of the glass cages-

Muaaaaa 

_Uhhhhhhhhhh_

_Scrape_

_Scrape _

_Scrape-_

A _hand _pressed up against the glass.

"Holy Mother of god!" Kevin twisted around and eyed the cage-eyes wide and dilated. A bald head swung out of the darkness-a single intelligent eye peered out at him-the other was white-filmy-covered with mucus-

"What...what-what-what-what- is that?"

_It's a George Romero zombie. A real live zombie. No-not alive._

He laughed. On some unconscious level he had seen what was there and accepted it. It was nothing really. Weak. Useless.

"What are the Yanks up too?" he whispered- coming forward for a closer look, "What the bloody hell are all these people up too?"

Somehow these creatures filled him with fascination. Who made them? Who had they been? What were they doing here so far down in the dark?

Like a nightmare... 

_--------------------------_

Wolf's Bluff

Chris Redfield frowned.

He had pulled his dress shirt out of his pants and loosened the red tie that Jill had given him for his birthday this year. He sat in one of their couches-even that seemed sad and faded in his world.

What am I going to do? 

They had caught him. They caught the one who murdered Officer Jill Valentine, Becky Saunders, Kelly Wood, Katy Sunderland, Carolyn Poddig, Jeff Evans, and Blake White-

The names blurred on the page, filled with a black and white photograph of the murderer.

A _kid_

_A fucking kid_

His face was open, wide and frightened and staring at the reporter with a mixed look of confusion, puzzlement, and fear. He had dark wispy brown hair and gray-green eyes. His father had been stone drunk when they found him-the kid in his room-higher then a kite on a summers day.

He needed to be punished.

He needed to die-because Becky would grow up without a mother. Because maybe Rebecca Saunders had wanted to paint when she got older. Maybe Kelly wood was working on some project at school, maybe Carolyn Poddig never finished that book was reading-maybe Blake white was captain of some team that would mourn his passing.

Why did people get away with it?

He was going to get away with it, just like Umbrella had gotten away with it. Nobody had done anything! Not even the police!

_You're not being rational Chris. _He was a police officer and even he could not protect each and every child in the world _some people slip through the cracks._

They couldn't do that anymore!

He wiped his eyes and stood up, seeing through the family photos-the cheap paints of ducks and lakes and things that hung in houses. He ignored the books that Jill had brought from her apartment when they had moved in together.

"Chris?"

Claire stood in the doorway holding Becky. Chris ignored his daughter's pink jumper and his sister's baleful expression. What if something happened to them? What had happened to Claire in the cemetery yesterday?

"Chris? Where are you going?"

"Out." He fixed his shirt and reached for his trench coat.

"AAA." Becky waved her arms, "AAAA. AAAAAAA."

"She missed daddy! Didn't you sweetie?" Claire held the baby up, coddling it, "She missed daddy so much-we had to come home cause she was crying for you-that and it was raining but-"

"She's not even a year old yet Claire." Chris said coldly, "She can't talk yet."

"Awww! Did you hear that?" She held the baby up to her face, "Your daddy said you couldn't talk yet! You tell him how wrong he is!"

"AAA?"

"Daddy is going out."

"Where's daddy going?"

"None of your goddamn business." Chris said coldly, "You won't tell me what's going on with you-why the _hell should I inform you what's going on in my life?"_

Becky began to wail and Claire looked up at Chris, shocked and angered.

"Hey!"

"Leave me alone." He slammed the door shut.

Outside the rain was coming down almost as badly as it had when Marco brought him the news. It had been almost a week, and friends at the WBPD were beginning to worry.

Why can't everybody leave me alone? 

He stalked towards his car-a silver Miada-parked in the driveway. He and Jill had bought the car-and Jill had been looking into getting a SUV. Chris had complained-telling her that they weren't in combat-why should they drive a tank?

He slid behind the driver's side and shut the door.

"I just want to be alone..."

Deep down he was tired, so tired of everyone respecting him, loving him-expecting him to take care of him. Hadn't Jill wanted that? She wanted him to take care of her... take...care...of her...

What about himself?

He put the car into drive and the CD he'd been listening to in happier times clicked into play.

_It's just no good anymore_

_Since you went away_

_Now I spend my time _

_Just thinking about till yesterday_

_One is the loneliest number _

_One is the loneliest number_

_Since you went away..._

His head dropped as the world passed him by like faded photographs.

Downtown Wolf's Bluff was filled with various patrons enjoying the rainy season-and the trendy antique shops that people from Dayton wanted to visit. The streets were crowded with shoppers' and-

"Jesus!"

A pop exploded outside and people began to shriek. The front windshield of his car exploded inward-shards of glass covering his cowed body.

"SHOOTER!"

"Somebody help!"

"What the hell is happening to this town I ask you?"

"Help! Police!"

Chris scooted forward, trying to reach the door handle for the driver's side. Another pop went off and the music track changed:

_One, more, murder, in this town_

_Don't mean a thing, you get accustomed to the sound._

_One, more, murder, in this town_

_Just block off the street and wrap the crime scene to the ground_

The screaming began to get louder as Chris wrenched at the door. The dreary rain and the landscape turned the shopping landscape into a dingy world of blue seen through a camera lens. The music continued-three skulls lay split open on the ground.

"Help!" A woman had dropped her bags looking at Chris, "help-I'm hurt, I'm shot-he shot me."

"Who?"

"The man was on the building. He shot me down, he shot me down." She began to sing in a high-off key tone, "Bang-Bang my baby shot me down..."

_Hosanna, hosanna_

_I can't feel nothing at all_

_Hosanna, Hosanna _

_I can't feel nothing_

_I can't feel nothing at all_

_I can't feel nothing at all._

_I can't feel nothing at all..._

Chris reached down and frowned at the handbag that lay sprawled across the ground. The body lying a few feet away was that of a man. Far off in the distance a woman was screaming hysterically.

_I said I couldn't feel anything_

_Saturday night_

_Coming out_

_Park along I think you're coming out_

_Plead to a super-fie_

_Take the car I got a family _

_One more, murder... _

_One, more, Murder..._

"Call the police!"

"I'm with the WBPD" Chris held up his badge, "Lets get a little order here!"

Security guards were diving out of the stores looking up at the tops of the roofs searching for the sniper. They had a sniper in DC-what was going on? Their town was perfect-it was okay-not a big town.

No crime, no murders, no murders-

At least they don't get up and walk around... 

He stepped toward one body. A teenage boy lay on the ground-a single hole pierced his heart. Chris frowned, bent closer to the body-

The boy's eyes opened-slowly filling with a dark fluid-mucous substance. He raised his arms stinking of death and decay. Its mouth opened-slack jawed-and he moaned-

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Chris jumped back.

"Sir?"

The guards looked at the policeman, other cars pulling up in the distance-sirens wailing.

"Sir...help...please..."

She had hurt her arm-gnawing on it probably. The poor woman's eyes were filled with the wet soppy mucous. Her skin was patchy-dirt stained. She had risen from the grave? Yes, they had raised her-umbrella-the umbrella corporation-evil-

"You're not getting me." Chris pulled out his gun, "This is a mercy."

The gun exploded in his hand.

"CHRIST REDFIELD! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The woman was on the ground now, moaning piteously, whimpering.

Hands! They were all around him now! Pale zombie-like hands grabbing at him-tearing at him-they were going to get him! He had failed!

"Jill! Jill! Barry! Claire!"

MOAAAAAAAN one of the zombies was tugging tightly on his arm now. They had learned to talk! How insidious, Umbrella creating a sentient army of the undead, he tried to talk, tried to tell them to let him go so that he could end their torment, their pain...

_MAAAAAAAHMM _

_AAAMMMMM_

_UHHHHHHHHHH_

"Claire! Jill! Jill! Help me! Oh god! Jill! Rebecca! Captain Wesker!"

Dimly, he saw Albert Wesker to the side, like a dark shadow

"Captain Wesker! Find Jill! Help me! Help meeeeee!"

He did nothing, and Christopher Redfield collapsed in on himself and waited for death to take him.

--------------------------

Our Lady of Victory Veterans hospital

"What's he got?"

"In a word?" The doctor flipped up a manila folder, "Post Traumatic stress disorder-and he's got it bad." She tsked impatiently, "He's suffering from major depression-which is to be expected-but the stress..."

The chief leaned his pale head on his hand, staring at Lauren Margaret with loathing.

"That's why he shot her."

"Didn't you say he used to be in Raccoon?" Dr. Margaret closed the chart, "Wasn't he the one who discovered the entire mansion and everything in it?"

The chief nodded, gasping for breath.

"That would explain it." The woman closed his folder and looked down at the floor, "Poor Guy...having that happen to him..."

"He lost his wife in Wonderland."

"No!" She put a hand to her mouth, "I-I-"she shook her head, "Oh man...he discovered everything that Umbrella was doing."

"Yeah."

"We're indebted to him."

The Chief frowned, "I never thought about it that way." He blocked out the image of Chris pulling his gun on that defenseless woman, "Now I guess it's our turn to take care of him now huh?"

------

Chris Redfield lay on his bed in a dreamless state of awakening. His mind was filled with nightmares and horrible thoughts, difficult thoughts that could find no bearing. He was standing in a white room watching two people play a video game.

"Who's that?"

"That." The person with the controller said, "Is the good guy. His name is Chris Redfield."

"Oh." The second person looked confused. He could not see the TV screen-but the sound was turned up loud enough so that he could hear the moaning, the screaming-the awful writing-

"Who's that? He's cool."

"That's Albert Wesker." The gamer rolled its eyes, "He's the bad guy. It's a universe of extremes. Black/white, dark/light-"

"Hey-like the matrix?"

The gamer looked up-its face obscured, "CRAP! I'm supposed to be at work! Come on man, I'll drop you off at your house on the way."

Chris! 

Three people were playing a game of cards in a dark basement. Chris groaned-he raised a hand and lifted himself off the ground slowly.

"Hi." A man turned one of the cards over, "Did you get lost?"

"Wh-where-where am I?"

"He _must _be lost." The second man took a card, "Give me three Scott."

"I just _gave _you three."

"You aren't supposed to be here yet." The third man said, "You've got things to do. You can't see her again. Even though she wants to see you."

Chris frowned. There was something distinctly familiar about this place. The dark walls, the splatters of unidentifiable things...

"Who...who wants to see me?"

"Your wife dumbass." The second man flipped over a card, "Crap. Crap. Crap..."

"Three hundred dollars." The first man laid his cards on the table. Chris suddenly had an overwhelming urge to see what sort of hand had won him three hundred dollars.

"Hey!" Scott folded the cards up quickly. His face was suddenly a grinning mask; "You NEVER show your opponent your hand in a game of cards! Savvy?"

"Chris! Listen to me! Can you hear me? It's Claire! Come back Chris! Come back please!"

Chris opened his eyes and smiled at his sister. His daughter was in her arms-asleep-thankfully.

"I know..." he coughed, "What to do."

--------------------

A/N: Wow! Chris is loosing his mind! Poor Kevin Lancaster, he's far too nice for the Resident Evil Universe, but we need a completely innocent character to fully explore the corruption. Now you, as dedicated fans-may be wondering. Ramen, Where ARE the zombies?

I promise, they're coming. This is more physiological stuff then anything else. And Chris will be getting better. I wanted to make this as real as possible and I know for a fact that if I met a whole bunch of zombies and had to defend myself, I'D probably suffer from something or other. Relief for Chris is coming.


	4. Project Apocalypse

A/N: Enjoy Or die. (just kidding )

-----------

The warrior doesn't care if he's called a beast or a dog; the main thing is winning.

-Asakura Norikage (soteki) (1474-1552)

Walked away, heard them say, "Poison hearts will never change. Walked away again. Turned away, in disgrace, felt the chill upon my face cooling from within

-AFI "The Leaving Song"

-----------

Wolf's Bluff Ohio

Just after the shooting

Albert Wesker sat in a nearby street café, trying to contain his uncontainable anger and waiting for his contact.

He had arrived at two thirty, sat down, ordered a drink and a light meal (A salad, a rarity for someone who's genetic make-up ordered him to eat meat) and a drink.

At three o' clock he'd watched the afternoon traffic begin to dissipate.

And at three thirty everything went to hell.

He had ignored the snipers up on the roof assuming them to be matinence. When they had begun to pick off various civilians on the other hand-he had prepared dutifully to rush to their aid when a familiar voice appeared like a ghost from the air...

"I'm with the WBPD! Lets have a little order here!"

Chris Redfield. The good, the golden, the god, descended from Olympus to assist the mere mortals who cried out for his assistance.

Then things had gotten interesting.

A police sniper had cried out from the roof of their building- when two security officers managed to corner the second sniper (He had no idea how-apparently they had used a net and something that looked a hell of a lot like a cattle prod) the third was rushed by a group of businessmen and women from another building.

Well shit. Ever since September 11, everybody had wanted to be the hero...

That was when Christopher had shot the woman.

"What?"

"That police officer! He's shooting people!"

"Somebody stop him! Isn't he supposed to be the good guy?"

Wesker frowned. Chris Redfield the saint shooting people?

Indeed, a woman lay on the ground bleeding profusely from a second wound in her arm. Chris had done well-the shot severed the elbow joint. Wesker's frown deepened as his fellow officers crowded around him, attempting to restrain him.

Then he had started screaming about zombies.

Wesker watched as they hauled Officer Redfield off the field, penalty called on account of rough play. His eyes darted back and forth insane and manic.

"Captain Wesker! Call Jill! Help meeeeee!"

Wesker said nothing and began to push his way to the back of the crowds. It was about time for his contact to show up and-

"Hello Captain. It's been a while."

Albert Wesker froze.

The woman behind him (Older then she had been when he knew her, yet no less desirable) had shoulder length brown hair. She wore a trench coat and hat and looked like a reject from a spy-thriller.

"Do I know you?"

"I know you." She sidled up to him, "I know you, and I have for quite some time Captain." She removed her hat and looked him in the eye. Outside the crowds were beginning to disperse.

"Chambers?"

"Oui." She slipped the hat back on, "That's Special Agent Carlton with the FBI however."

"Married?" he disguised his surprise at the sudden appearance of someone he'd shot in the chest. If there was a true cat in this business it was Chambers-who could take a bullet and come back swinging.

Her eyes narrowed, "Witness protection program."

"Oh." He raised his eyebrows, "Well it's a pleasure to see you, but-"

"But nothing." Rebecca's eyes were icy-her demeanor cold. He had never figured that the 18-year-old kid of his STARS team could grow up to be someone who he might actually have to politically maneuver with on his level...

"...Antarctica base."

Wesker looked up, "What?"

"As part of the government investigation." Rebecca continued, "Like I said. I must say that you and Chris were quite complete in your decimation of the base." She leaned back in her chair, "That and there has been documentation unearthed us."

Wesker frowned, "How?"

Ignoring the sudden media frenzy-the departure of all the café's patrons-they sat in a booth towards the back. The two waiters and the staff were arguing hysterically up front.

"About the founding of the HCF." Rebecca slipped something out of her coat and slid it across the table, "Files containing detailed information pertaining to a project APOCALYPSE."

Wesker frowned, "What?"

She slid the file across the table and Wesker flipped it open, examining it.

"Most of this is blacked out."

"Yeah, but computers are amazing things." Rebecca shrugged, "Take it, I have copies."

"You've changed Becca." Wesker smiled, "You're much more familiar with how this works. What happened to you after Raccoon?"

"Most of the file." Rebecca ignored him, "Details the planned operations for an Umbrella research faculty." Her eyes narrowed, "Then it details the destruction of these faculties."

"That was in all the files." Wesker said, "Look, you have to understand Rebecca-"

"Carlton."

"Rebecca. The company was fully prepared to destroy themselves to hide their secrets." He lowered his eyes darkly, "after all, we were doing things that would ruin us if discovered." He couldn't believe that he was revealing all of this...

"Who gave you the order to assassinate Dr. Marcus?"

Wesker froze. He coughed a few times.

"Ho-How-How-How do you know about that?"

Nobody knew about Dr. Marcus's death save him, Birkin, and the UBCS team members. Wesker had checked, the two of them had died when Birkin took their secret to his grave.

The café darkened.

"Who gave you the order?"

"It..." he leaned back into the leather, the question had shocked him into response. "It...came from someone at the French labs. We had no idea who-an executive-that was for sure." He nodded firmly, "Anyway what does this have to do with me?" he slipped his comfortable hard façade back into place.

Rebecca flipped open the folder again.

"Operation Apocalypse shall begin with Dr. James Marcus who has become a liability." She read, "His research shall be subsequently completed by Dr. William Birkin. In the event that Dr. Birkin and Dr. Albert Wesker-"

Her eyes met Albert's. She kept reading.

"Should attempt to repeat the similar acts of insubordination that Marcus has committed both shall be assassinated as needs be. Physiological profiles indicate that both subjects shall take extreme action should their lives be threatened."

Wesker frowned, "We did receive physiological exams. However they had nothing to do with the possibility of us-"

Rebecca interrupted him, "Because of the highly violent nature of the research being conducted, it is recommended that in order for project apocalypse to proceed as planned-the Spencer Estate faculty (Previously in operation as a simple storage and recycling plant) shall be used to further the development of the necessary goals of the General program."

"Well, that was-" his mind was working. Hadn't he wondered the same thing? Why put the faculty out in the middle of the forest? It was almost like they had wanted them to release the virus...

Rebecca's voice brought him back to reality.

"They didn't choose you because of your brilliance Captain." Rebecca sounded sad, "Although that was a large part of it. What did that guy say? Genius is equal parts brilliance and insanity."

"That was obvious." Wesker laughed aloud, "Just look at Marcus-"

Silence filled the room and poured out into the street. The area was a mass of cop-cars, journalists, and helicopters removing the wounded to various hospitals around the area. 23 people had died.

"What." Wesker asked, "Are you getting at?"

"I'm saying that the outbreak at Ark lay, the destruction of Raccoon-hell with what we know..." Rebecca glanced down out of the booth, at the gray world outside, "Probably the Ashford situation-it was all planned."

"That's impossible." Wesker growled, his body tensing, "It was freak chance. I mean honestly-"

"Who came up with the ideas? You said it yourself in your confidential memo to Agent Wong-"

"Agent Wong?" Wesker's eyes bugged out of his head, "Ada..."

"Is working with the government." Rebecca said, "CIA specifically. Had you fooled even?" she grinned.

"Jesus..." Wesker did not like being played at all, and he had apparently been misused six ways from Sunday.

"Someone..." Rebecca grabbed Wesker's arm and stared into his mottled eyes, "planned this. The outbreak-the mansion-they left you and your co-workers a outline..." Rebecca looked at him sadly, "To end the world."

"You're lying Chambers." Wesker growled, "In any case, what concern is it of mine? After all, I left Umbrella." He stood, "I believe our conversation is finished."

Rebecca leaned against the booth and watched Albert Wesker stride out of the café. Even when she was eighteen-she had wondered about his sanity. Now, with what she had seen out in the street and in the files...

She shook her head and groaned. They all saw things in such terms of black and white!

The café door banged shut and Rebecca closed her eyes and put two fingers to her temples. She did not have the heart to tell Albert Wesker that the HCF had sent him to Antarctica.

They had asked him to locate Alexia.

They controlled his actions.

Which meant, especially with the discovery that the HCF board members could not be located at all-meant that they were probably involved as well.

-----------------

Africa's Ivory Coast

Dark men on a dark boat, in a dark place.

From the casual observer's glance-they appeared to be old friends chatting away in Swahili, unusual for the area. The boat rocked back and forth for a bit in the moorings, sending the reflection of the moon shivering across the water.

The first man handed the second one a brown package.

If the observer had been omnipotent, like the saints and angels above, they would have noticed that the box was marked, "HCF-Ivory Coast faculty" and that the man who was holding said box-wore all black.

Black mask, black shirt, black gun, black boots.

His friend said something else and laughter rocked across the harbor. A drunken American Sailor (Staying in port while his ship was docked) frowned at the sudden peal of uninterrupted mirth before shuffling off-the evening's entertainment holding him up with her thick arms.

They were two dark men on a dark boat, in a very, very dark place.

----------

The next day

HCF's Ivory Coast faculty: "White Rabbit"

"Hi Bob, grabbed the mail?"

Bob nodded, showing Ted the small brown package that had arrived that morning. They were a small faculty, and a package like this from the home office was a rarity, and a treat.

Ted held out his beefy hand, "Any letter?"

"Nothing." Bob smiled, "Just says open immediately. What do you think it is?"

"Don't know. Probably important."

"Well don't just stand there! Open it for Chrissake!"

Ted tore into the box like a child on Christmas. He gasped for a moment, then both men crumpled to the ground.

Like a lost white feather, a small notice drifted out from the boxes bottom. Its script was elegant-written by a hand that was used to communication by writing-not by the information age's "Electronic mail System"

We sincerely hope you enjoy the new and improved, faster activation T-Virus. Improving the method of transfer was quite simple. The virus is easily transferred to bacteria, therefore enclosing spores in your mail allowed it to be transferred very quickly.

Thank you for your trial run gentlemen.

-----------

Horizon Chemical Foundation

Las Vegas Nevada

Greg Peterson slammed his computer on the side. Outside sunlight beamed through his windows, mocking those who were forced to work with the promise of a full-fun day at "Adult Disneyland."

"HURRY UP!"

Carla peeked her head in, "What's wrong?"

"Its IVC." Greg growled, "They haven't reported in yet. We're supposed to receive hourly reports from them and Dr. Stevenson said that I couldn't go to lunch until that Damn Jack ass Ted reported in.," he growled. He hated Ted. He hated the fact that HCF believed in employees, "Eating out" for Lunch. The most nutritious food that the cafeteria offered was Toaster Eggo waffles in the vending machine.

"Want me to bring you back some MacDonald's?"

Greg gagged, "Don't you realize you're going to end up an elephant if you keeping eating that shit Carla?"

Carla growled, "Look who's talking Mr. This-is-my-fifth-heart-attack and I'm okay..."

"Those happened to have occurred from Stress and-"

Something beeped.

"Finally!" he clacked a few keys and opened the direct communication log. With the updated computer system. He could now speak to Ted, and hear audio from all the way in IVC...

And be there.

Yes, holographic sensors allowed 3-D projections of actual happenings to appear on screen. Once he'd called up Robert Davis right in the middle of smooching some hot little number...

"Bob? Ted?"

"HELP!"

Tina Evans appeared before them.

Her dress was torn-blood smeared over one eye. The specter invaded the room staring at them with pity-revulsion at something that had occurred outside their vision. The audio filled the room with screaming-awful screaming...

"We got-outbreak-"

"Tina!" Greg began punching keys furiously. Carla stared in horror as Tina picked something up off the floor and leveled it directly at her.

"DON'T COME ANY CLOSER! CAN YOU HEAR ME? BOB! PLEASE!" tears oozed down her cheeks, wet with red, "Bob? Bob please...oh god...oh god bob..."

The backward holographic sensor triggered. Carla shrieked as a zombie-a zombie – passed right through her-arms outstretched. She began to scream; a long, low sound-as the image snowed one more time and went dark.

Both stood, staring at the screen. The world repulsive with the new found knowledge that one of their colleagues was in danger.

"We have an outbreak situation." Tina said, "Level Five." She licked her lips, "Holy Sweet mother of god...it's happening all over again..."

-----------------

A/N: Short, yes, unbelievably short. The next one will be longer I promise. We have to get back to Sherry yes? Sherry and Kevin both.


	5. Human Biological Weapons

A/N: I want to make a couple of things most clear before we continue. This is a prologue, so the entire story arc won't be concluded in this particular story (There will be a sequel) and although I haven't had much luck with Sequels (Shoves Twilight under the carpet and continues plodding away at chapter 13) this one's basically been written in my head for quite some time.

Many people may be wondering about the plight of Chris. As we will see, he will be resolved-and he will return to his happy, good guy self after just a bit of downtime.

_The Issue of September 11 has been raised in this story. _My original intent was to create a story that could easily function in (our) universe. That's my intent with almost all of my stuff, from Fan fiction to original stuff. A lot of the character's motivations center upon the possibility of Terrorists getting a hold of the T-virus and such. I do not support or condone terrorism (Actually I think that everybody associated with terrorism deserves a death so painful and horrible that I don't want to describe it) it makes a good story however, which is why it is mentioned forthwith.

Enough chitchat, ON WITH THE SHOW!

---------------

"_They break up my own little tedium, its better then television."_

_-Chuck Palahniuk "Survivor"_

An interlude; dealing with the history of Wolf's Bluff.

People who aren't really that important founded the town in a year that you'll automatically forget. Who gives a flying fart who founded a town or city anyway? Their names are going to fade with the test of time; they're importance-their entire _life _will be reduced to a few random facts that various school children will remember for an hour, for a quiz-and then automatically forget.

Let the reader examine the population of Wolf's Bluff.

In the year 2001, there were 40,000 people in the city. A quiet little retreat for those who lived in Dayton-the kind of place you would take your children when you couldn't think of anything else to do, and they were driving you insane with their FUCKING questions.

Ahem. In 2007 that population had tripled. Why? As always, a corporation had taken interest in that part of the world, and merrily decided to set up a happy home base for itself and its employees.

That corporation was Umbrella.

In 2002 they had set up a research and development faculty on the outskirts of the city-Chris Redfield had yet to make an appearance-so they figured themselves relatively safe. The base had all the comforts typical of such things, bio-weapon defense system, full stocked armory-convenient weapons and documents set in inconspicuous places...

It was in this base that Albert Wesker was working.

"NO-"

The scream broke off as a bullet gave the employee a kiss he wouldn't forget. Wesker twisted the weapon around ignoring the screaming issuing from the vents and pegged the live security feed to the home base in New York.

Shit.

They knew he was here.

"Well why wouldn't they?" The licker's presence had certainly alerted them. The few employees at the faculty were quickly being slaughtered.

He sighed, in _his _day; they had fought back at least...

That wasn't important. What was important was to find the personnel files for the 23 people that had been murdered that morning. Wesker may have been big, bad, and a Biological Tyrant himself-but he wasn't stupid. Although whoever sent those damn snipers must have been-I mean come on? What better way to draw attention to you?

"Aha! The game is afoot Watson." His eyes came to rest on a rust-colored file cabinet. He grinned to himself and stepped over.

"PLEASE! NO-NOOOOOOOO!"

"JA-"

He ignored the drama in the room next to his and rifled through the files.

James K. Marianne Ashton, Laura Kutcher, Jessica Steed, William Morrison, Michael Storm, Naomi Watts-

He pulled up his bag and began to shove papers in. There had to be a reason why whoever sent those snipers was after those 23 people. Once he took those files back to the hotel room then he could examine them closer and discover it. You never knew-it might be of some use to HCF...

Unless David sent the snipers...why would he do that however? 

Something in the bowels of the Umbrella Faculty roared.

"Time to go." Thankfully the Licker didn't create zombies that had to be taken care of right away, but the police were going to have a hell of a time figuring out why there were at least 200 headless corpses lying strewn about.

Wesker laughed, his voice echoing around the area. This set his mind back in the right place-making him forget about Claire Redfield in the graveyard-and his conversation with a ghost that afternoon.

He sighed and turned away from the carnage and out into the cool mountain night.

---------------

Wolf's Bluff 

_Hospital_

"And I thought she would come to you." Jack said, his voice heavy, "So I came to see you first Miss Redfield-but now that you tell me she hasn't even contacted you-I'm starting to get concerned."

Claire nodded, biting her lip, "This couldn't have come at a worse time."

"I'm sorry," Jack, snapped, "Are the problems of my family inconvenient for you?" he sneered at her, "I thought you would want to help since you professed to care about Sherry so much."

"What the hell would you know about it?" Claire cried, "If you had seen what your brother had done then you'd understand. Dark labs and monsters-horrific monsters that still walk through my nightmares-all poised to be released on an unsuspecting world!"

"You think that qualifies you to-"Jack shook his head, "I'm sorry-"He shook his head and took a few steps away from her, "I read the papers, I'm sorry about your brother's wife."

Claire bit her lip, "Thank you."

"I'm just-worried about her."

Claire nodded, "Its nice of you to care so much..." she tried to smile, "Sherry-she's been a good kid?"

Jack nodded. Claire saw that the shades of a five o'clock shadow were growing on his face. He looked beat-worn inside and outside.

"Look. We'll go to the station. How long has she been missing?"

"Two days."

"Then its official, we'll have her declared a missing person." Claire nodded to herself, satisfied, "Alright?"

"Sure." Jack reached into the pocket of his brown coat and pulled out a cell-phone, "I'm going to call my wife to tell her that we're looking for her okay?"

Claire disliked the "We're" but she accepted it. The legal implications of Chris's actions this morning would occupy his time-and all that she had to keep her company until she went back to college a week from now was Rebecca. At least if they found Sherry, a small part of her nagging mind would be put at ease.

Jack turned away from her, whispering onto his cell-phone. The first floor corridor of the hospital was practically silent-the sounds of various patrons going about their business along with the doctors the only noise.

"What is that?" the ambient sound had been interrupted by a slight underscore of muffled cries and screamed orders from confused employees. Jack clicked his cell-phone shut and frowned-looking in the same direction.

"I'll go see what's going on..." Jack turned to Claire, "Not that it's any of our business."

"Let me check with my brother. Just make sure he's okay." She watched Jack jog down the hallway and opened the doorway a crack, to make sure that Chris was okay.

Father and daughter lay asleep on the hospital bed-Rebecca's head lay on Chris's chest-her body rising and falling in motion with his. She smiled, staring fondly at them before closing the door behind her and looking down the hallway in the direction of the noises from before.

Jack.

Jack stood in the hallway, his body frozen-joints locked. He looked like a brown tin-man against the blue carpet. Claire frowned and walked foreword quickly, night beginning to pass outside the windows. The silhouettes of trees edged with the gold of sunlight appeared outside in a straight line.

"Mr. Birkin?" Claire approached cautiously, Birkin's ice blue eyes were wide-like he had seen a ghost, "Jack?"

Jack turned away from her and vomited.

He pulled a trashcan close to his body and ignored her presence for almost five whole minutes.

"B...B-B-bodies."

Claire frowned, "What?"

Jack looked up at her, his eyes wide with fear, pain, and a cocktail of emotions.

"Bodies-they had bodies-from a-faculty-an Umbrella faculty-no head. They had no head!" his eyes watered, "What kind of horrible monster tears the heads off of bodies? They had great big open sores-and-and-"

Claire was angry, angry at the sudden return of things that she had forgotten and tried to forget, "The Lickers did that. William made them." She said coldly, "That's what Leon and I gathered from the data we retrieved in Raccoon."

She regretted that response quickly as Jack Birkin sat down on the floor and burst into furious tears.

-----------------

Las Vegas Nevada

Sherry had been counting the tiles on the catwalk. Her mind was abuzz with what "Chief supervisor Swanson" had said.

A human Biological Weapon? Mr. Wesker? What does he have to do with it? She vaguely remembered Mr. Wesker as a friend of her father and mother-someone who worked with them in Raccoon. He must not have died when...

She rubbed her elbow and pushed the bad thoughts out of her mind. Earlier a clean-up crew had come and taken care of the tiger's body. The younger man had remained behind staring at the reddened gray tiles like it would bring the cat back to life. Sherry had been cruel then-taunting him by calling him a spoiled little boy who had lost his cat.

He was still there.

He had something in his hands and was furiously working at it with a mechanical pencil. At first she had considered the possibility of the experience driving him insane-then she realized that it was a sketchbook.

He was drawing.

After a while she had stopped watching him and pounded on the door screaming and crying. From there her night was divided into shifts. At about seven they delivered food-in the form of mashed potatoes and some sort of green. She ate without complaining and returned to her routine.

At about Eleven-she had lifted her head and realized that the young man was still there-where he'd been for most of the evening-sketchbook clutched in his hand-his eyes closed.

He looks cute when he's asleep.

She pounded on the glass with an open palm and he shot awake-his eyes angry.

"What the-Fuck is going on!" he shook his head, "Jeez!"

"Language Dr. Lancaster..." Sherry raised a finger and shook it, mockingly, "Language."

"Fuck you." He growled, "fuck me, fuck the whole fucking world-nothing makes any sense anymore." He sighed and groaned as he put out a hand to steady himself so he could stand.

"Wait!" if he left they might turn off the lights. She would be left alone with the creatures around her, and the things they said lived in the basement...

HCF...they must have samples-samples of the zombies and everything in Raccoon-she looked at Dr. Lancaster and felt a stab of pity, for him suddenly loosing his innocence in the world.

Kevin stepped across the catwalk and sat across from her-against the bear's cage. The great black behemoth opened a sleepy eye and closed it again-his presence ignored.

"Hi." Sherry sat back,"Why are you still here?"

Kevin stretched and yawned. He curled his legs beneath him and looked at her-his eyes searching her face-her body-

She frowned, "I asked you a question."

"I know." His response was slightly muffled, "There are a few reasons. Why I'm still here. I'm trying to wrap my mind around how seriously warped you Americans are for one."

Sherry felt a burst of indignation, "What's wrong with us?"

"Do you know what I saw in the basement?"

Things with exposed brains, gigantic monsters with long claws-the undead-the monsters-the monsters that lived in the human subconscious and were brought to life by a group of people who should have belonged in an insane asylum.

In therapy-she had accepted that her parents had to have been insane. That was the only way she could rationalize why they could have wanted to do what they did-

And Claire had told her what happened to her father-which made it even more true.

"Yeah."

"How..." he looked at her, "How can you just-accept something like that?"

She shrugged, not wanting to go into her past history.

"And they say that you're like that." He shook his head, "An outright fabrication."

Sherry snorted, "Why do you say that?"

"You're too pretty to-"

They both blushed-stunned by the awkward situation.

"Umm..." Kevin yawned, "Now that I'm quite sure that everybody is gone I'll continue with my original objective of freeing you-"he stepped closer and grinned at her, genuine warmth in his tone, "If you promise not to attack me again."

Sherry chuckled, "Hey-if you get me out here-"

Sherry was an objective individual. As Kevin Lancaster exited the scene (presumably to complete his objective) She realized the power she held over him.

And the power he held over her-he was genuinely attractive. Boys at school had attempted to win her affections-and she had given in only to fulfill her needs. Here there was genuine attraction-and she could use that to her advantage.

But so could he...

"Hello again..."

The door to her cage opened and Kevin stepped in. He grinned at the girl keeping his body tensed in case she decided to attack. His old cricket skills were beginning to come back to him.

She studied him, "Now, you're going to get me out of here?"

"Under pretense of an experiment."

She frowned, "What do you mean?"

"I'll smuggle you out as an experiment." He said, "You pretend to be...well slightly crazy-and I walk you out the front door."

"And then?"

"I take you to my house-"

"Where you can lock me in your basement and do awful things to me-thanks a lot but no thanks Dr. Frankenstein." She shook her head, "I'll find my own way out."

Sherry turned away from him and looked out the glass at the slotted lights. It might be day out there-and day meant freedom-and escape.

"And from there you'll face six levels. Each level is patrolled by a control and captures team-codenamed for each of the floors. Despite the-basement projects-we're also doing some pretty heavy viral research on the third floor involving smallpox and influenza-a CDC control and containment team patrols that floor along with the Capture force. Plus," Kevin smiled, "I can almost guarantee that each employee is going to do everything that they can to stop you."

"Hey." Sherry growled, "Least I can make a good try of it."

"And then die-and where's the fun in that?"

Sherry thought about this. She went over all the people that she had met in her life and tried to discern what they would have done in this particular situation.

"I have no other choice..." Unless I can find a way out and get away later, "Lead the way Dr. Lancaster."

---------------------

A/N: And there's Chapter Six! Once again another short chapter, and I apologize for that. I love Jack's reaction to the bodies-he and Claire is going to have a lot in common. Also, many people are probably wondering where the Ashfords are. Yes, they will be making an appearance-but not in the way most people would think. Bai for now!


	6. Rhapsody in Macabre

A/N: Here we go. Chapter Five and six, as promised-an update to prove to you that I'm not dead. Wai.

------------

United States Military Base 

_Home of the 16th Calvary Unit "Death from Above" _

_Ivory Coast, Africa. _

The Jungle filled with the sounds of howler monkeys and birds in trees. Thousands of tiny lives were waking up and greeting the day-oblivious to the interest suddenly being shown in their habitat

"LETS GO!"

The humans thudded out of bed and into their showers. They had received a distress call from an American company that apparently had a factory towards the outskirts of their tiny village. The people of the village had been avoiding Americans like the plague, retreating as their ancestors' did-when death and change came on the horizon in the form of the Dutch and Spanish Traders...

Pete Mercado watched the horses of steel and iron that his colleagues piloted fly overhead and turned casually to the old man who stood watching them pass.

"Hey Rolf." He pointed, "Any reason why my boys would be getting up this early to take the ponies for a gallop?"

Rolf tossed him a coffee and ran his hand through his bleached blond hair and sighed.

"I don't know." He said in accented English, "I mean the animals were spooked last night, some of the older folks in the town have been muttering and pointing to the HCF base.

Pete frowned, "You mean the one we're here to protect? Technically? Along with all these Americans in the town?"

"That's it." Rolf's eyes narrowed, "Nobody's been out of the plant for _days- _and then there's the animals-"

Pete's eyes widened, "Animals?"

Rolf did not bother to respond. His eyes wandered out into the middle of the street and across away from the confines of civilization to where the African Prairie loomed like a straw shadow. Grunts and howls and-god forbid-_moaning _echoed back and forth like catcalls.

"They."

Pete and Rolf started and looked back. A wizened old African woman stood beside them, leaning heavily on a richly carved staff. Her coal eyes were hidden beneath the wrinkles of her face-and her presence bespoke the kind of wisdom you'd only find in books, or folktales.

"They warning us."

Pete chuckled, his voice high and nervous, "Warning us about what?"

She did not smile. She turned to face the white man and looked at him with sad, serious eyes.

"They say white men come. White men build place to worship new gods. Old gods get angry so they send gift."

"Gift?" Rolf had to interject-crazy Anne was-well-crazy, "Like Pandora's Box?"

"_Yes. _"Anne whispered harshly, "Men opened the box and released the evil into world. Now evil spreading."

"Why would the animals be talking about it here?" Pete laughed, "I mean, why not go to the Post, or the Examiner-or heaven forbid the "Mirror" in London-"Pete was an American man of the world-having been stationed at sixteen other bases before this particular assignment.

"Simple Major." Anne smiled a gap-toothed smile, "Very easy. Evil wants to go home."

Pete and Rolf exchanged glances.

"I'd better get back to the base." Pete said quickly, picking up his bags, "Thanks for the morning report from the animal kingdom guys!"

"Pete!" Rolf reached foreword and grabbed a newspaper from the counter, "You forgot your copy of the Times!"

"Thanks!" Pete jogged back in and reached for the paper, the roar of the metal horses loud overhead, "I don't know what I'd do without-"

His eyes dropped to the headline and froze.

"Not a problem Pete-there was a problem with the boat it came on last night though-Pete-Pete?" Rolf frowned, "What's the matter?"

Pete said nothing, he pointed.

THE DEAD WALK?  
The air filled with the sound of animals crying, and a faint sound-like an underscore in a music CD-that may have been the sound of screams.

-----------------  
UN Conference building

"At four thirty HCF lost contact with their base on the Ivory Coast. An employee called it in-but the line was disconnected before we were able to hear more of the situation." "So?" The General leaned back in his seat, his uniform polished, "What's the problem here? Corporate goons forget to call in?"

"That's what we thought. Until we pulled this photo."

The general took the photo from his assistant's hand and frowned. He turned it over again, and then his frowned turned to an expression of fear. "What the hell is this."

"This is a photograph taken via sat-imaging station six-two-two. The detailed parts are taken from a USGS survey team looking for diamonds."

"When did they last report in?" "They have yet to sir. This photo was sent in yesterday."

The General sat back, "Holy, mother-fucking-Christ." They had Umbrella, they had Umbrella by the Goddamn balls and now this..." "I wonder how many companies have this particular...tool?" The Man at the end of the table whispered. The General, the assistants, and the other pawns looked up at the sound of his voice. "I wonder, how many more people have this technology? I wonder..."

"We CAN'T let the terrorists get a hold of this." Another General cried. He pounded his hands on the table, "AS if the first attack wasn't bad enough. Can you imagine what a militant group could do with the Undead?" "They would just have to spray in a mall." A small voice said, "Like Dark Winter. We cannot afford to have another Nuclear weapon detonated on our soil. I mean-we CANNOT afford to-" "I thought we had left the international arena trying to sort out-"

"It seems." The man down at the end of the table said, "That we have a new threat to our great nation. The Umbrella trial must proceed smoothly gentlemen, and then we will make HCF pay."

_The generals congratulated themselves on an outstanding collection of ideas. Yes, they would wait-they would return to slumber. In the meantime the African government (Governments? It was always hard to tell) could sort out the HCF. Then they would step in, save the day, make new friends and keep the old and all that._

_They could see it all so clearly._

_Down at the end of the table, cloaked in shadows and dragging on a cigarette, the man allowed himself a small, pearly white, smile._

_----------------_

**Horizon Chemical Foundation, Las Vegas Nevada**

Sherry groaned.

Her sides hurt, and her stomach felt like it was about to heave. She twisted to one side, trying to escape the light from beneath her prone body.

Where am I? 

She arched her back and blinked-her eyes barely adjusting to the gloom.

What-the-fuck-is-this? 

She was in an 11x12 box. The front of the box was effaced with glass-giving her a window onto a catwalk lit from beneath by hundreds of twinkling lights. Everything was a blaring-unbelievable-white.

"HEY!" she slammed her fist into the glass, "HEY!"

Across from her she saw a shape rise up and head over to investigate. She could dimly make out large features-

"BEAR!"

She shrank back; ignoring the fact that the bear was in the cage across the catwalk-and that he seemed very friendly.

"Holy...HCF...It's them...again..."

Either That or it was Umbrella.

The walls echoed with footfalls. She reached down and realized she was naked-and wrapped in an issued hospital gown including shirt and pants. She looked like a Scrubs reject.

"Hey!"

The footfalls became louder. A single man in a business suit followed by two others in black uniforms wielding weapons stalked past her. With military precision the black men turned to face her-leveling their guns.

The man folded his arms behind his back. There was something familiar about him.

"Are you comfortable Miss Birkin?"

"Who are you?" Her voice sounded large and hollow to her ears, "This is Kidnapping!"

"Absolutely." The man's voice was muffled in her prison, "And I have no intention of allowing your ridiculous little friends to let you escape this time. Did you enjoy your few brief years of freedom? They'll be the last you'll ever get."

Sherry said nothing. She sat back and stared at them with cold-expressionless fish eyes.

"Ah. I see we're going to play little soldier hmm?" The man leaned down, getting to her level, "Not talking, and not saying anything..."

A swish sound echoed off to the side of her. She frowned, not taking her eyes off the space the man's eyes vacated. She watched him stand, give a fake smile, and nod.

A younger man stepped into view.

Dad? 

He looked a lot like her father-the thought somehow gave her comfort. Never mind that her dad had been a blood-sucking butt-ugly fiend who had tried to kill her, at least he offered some protection.

This new figure wore a lab coat-and he was much younger then all the military men present. A black tie was askew on his chest-his white shirt stained with sweat. His brown eyes were wide and angry behind thin wire rims.

_I wonder what they're arguing about? _She growled to herself. That cute guy was most likely her doctor for the freak fest. She touched her elbow and frowned-wincing in pain.

They took out blood? Why? 

"Hey! Can you hear me?"

Sherry looked up.

The young man was facing her now, both hands on the glass. The Executive looked pained, yet Sherry saw a satisfaction in his eyes.

"Listen! I'm going to let you out okay? Just stay there!"

Sherry frowned.

Two things were wrong with this scenario.

1-he was the enemy

2-he was going to let her out.

She chuckled and bit her tongue to keep from calling out and telling him that it wasn't the way the game was played.

She whirled about when she heard the sound of a key turning in a lock. What would Claire do? Jump him most likely, not kill him-get the key-get a weapon-get out-

Claire...

The door opened wide and Sherry jumped.

"HEY!"

She yelped as the figure gripped her firmly around the waist and tossed her against the wall. She yelped again as she slid to the white floor, her face suddenly pressed against some scuff marks.

The figure was on her in a flash.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" she thrashed about with her hands, ignoring the pain in her arm. She smacked the figure on the side of the head, listening to the satisfying sound of glasses flying.

A hand grabbed her wrist, followed by another. She jerked upward, slamming her legs into his chest. The man coughed and pinned her with his own Torso.

She spit at him.

"Goodness." He smiled at her. His pale face had a streak of red blood down the side, "You put up a fight."

She wiggled, but he held her firm.

"What were you going to do? Rush the door? I had David lock me in. I only had the key to your door."

"Let me up."

"Not until you promise to not attack me."

His green eyes bored into her. He really did remind her of her dad...

"Alright."

He raised his hand off a wrist.

"Promise?"

"Jesus what do you want? A written fucking order? Yes, I promise."

He pulled himself off of her in a smooth motion and said, "Language my dear."

"Go to Hell and Fuck yourself."

The young man's eyes narrowed, "Listen. I'm TRYING to persuade them to let you go into my custody, in which case I will see about getting whatever it is you did processed quickly with the law."

"I was kidnapped!"

"I figured as much." The man raised a hand to his forehead. The door to the outside cage slid shut and Sherry studied him fully. They were in a white room with faded black scuffmarks on the walls and floor.

"Who the hell are you people?"

The man dropped his head, "Please watch the language."

"Who are you!"

"I." He pointed to his chest and studied her with dead eyes, "am Dr. Kevin Lancaster. Medical Doctor and Genetic Specialist."

"Impossible." She laughed, "You aren't any older then I am. Say, can I play dress up next? I want to be the Queen of England."

"Please watch the jokes." Now she could hear the English in his voice, "Seriously. How would you like it if I said I wanted to be president?"

"I'd be cool with that." Sherry dropped to the floor. _Pinhead. What the hell does he have stuck up his ass?_

Kevin shook his head, "Yes. Moving on. If you promise to behave I will have you removed from here, and awaiting a government investigation I will give you a room at my house."

"What do you want from me?" Sherry raised an eyebrow, "You want me to sing? Dance? I mean-why-the-fuck are you being so nice to me?"

Kevin dropped his eyes, "I don't like to see things caged."

She raised her eyes, "I can buy that."

He nodded, "At least don't try to escape until we're out of the building."

"I can dig that too." It would be a hell of a lot easier to escape once she knew where she was, and where the major population centers were.

"Cool" he held up his hands in quotation marks, "Now then Miss Birkin. Shall we?" he extended his arm. Sherry frowned, a fluttering feeling in her chest kept her from making a snide remark about his behavior.

Daniel was appalled. _How can a girl with such good upbringing have such awful manners? _

After waking up from his dream-state in the basement. He'd come upstairs to find the situation already in progress. His first sight upon re-entering reality had been that girl in her cage.

Somehow, the image reminded him of Trinity. Everything, from the scared eyes to the way she moved...

He'd had to intervene, if anything to distract him from what he had seen down below. This woman would provide a welcome distraction...

"What's your name?" he asked.

She said nothing. They passed through the first set of doors and she glared accusingly at all present. Her original captor appeared like a dark shadow behind her and Dr. Kevin.

"Kevin, what are you doing?"

"Taking her with me." Kevin frowned, "We're going to get this sorted out David..." he managed to chuckle lightly, "Honestly...locking a girl up in a cage like this, I don't know what you were thinking!"

His laughter rang throughout the white halls. David looked at him like he was insane, the military men were expressionless.

"That's a HBW you're holding the arm of." David said coolly, "You'd better let go and give her to us to take care of."

"HBW?" Kevin tightened his grip on the girl, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"James. Enlighten the good Doctor on the nature of the HBW and The BOW."

Kevin and Sherry jumped as "James" Swung his rifle to the side in a ceremonial gesture. He removed his helmet in the same fashion and raised his eyes-his face robotic.

"The HBW is the evolved stage of the BOW-or Bio Organic Weapon." The Standard classification of Bio Organic Weapon was developed by the Umbrella Corporation to describe creations whose conception involved the T-Cell Virus Toxin. HBW stands for HUMAN biological Weapon-a classification used to describe humans who have been in close contact with A T-Cell or G-Cell host."

Kevin frowned, "What are you goddamn Yanks talking about?"

"The Black basement." Here David frowned. He ignored Sherry's confused expression, "I thought you knew-because you went there."

"I went to see Dr. Wesker's hunter." His voice cracked. He hadn't found the hunter amongst the nightmares the lived in the basement. Was it the thing with the Tongue?

"Ah!" David clapped his hands together and erased the memory of the previous day involving Dr. Wesker from his mind, "Then you have met an HBW. Albert Wesker."

Kevin's head swam.

Those things, those awful monsters in the basement-those-_creatures_...

"Those were humans?"

"Developed by the Umbrella Corporation." David smiled, "You know all about that Sherry, don't you? You know about the "Lickers" and the Hunters...and the zombies..."

Sherry said nothing. She spat in David's Direction.

Kevin stumbled back, suddenly overwhelmed by the knowledge of the cruelty that these people had inflicted on others. He had read about Umbrella-but he had assumed that it was something like what had happened to Microsoft when they became Avalon Computers and Microsoft...

He was leaning against Trinity's cage.

"Leave him." David eyed him-cold, "What's the matter? You HONESTLY thought that we were operating on your same "Save the earth" plane? Please. You little pathetic Shit..."

Sherry bit her tongue as Kevin's head dropped to his chest.

David was in his element. Finally, that smug, SWEET little arrogant bastard was going to get his. He was so nice, so condescending-always willing to help out someone who was struggling-either at home or with Work...and now he had been knocked down.

Knocked down by the knowledge that the company that he loved and cared for wasn't the sweet company he had originally perceived.

He never saw the tiger move.

The pain she saw on her friend's face had motivated Trinity. Out of all of them, he had provided the only kindness. They had poked and prodded and injected and withdrew. He had brought food and caring. He had arranged for her and others to have the use of land where they could move instead of being kept in these glass worlds forever.

In some dim part of her undeveloped brain she realized that the time had come to repay him.

The Tiger broke through the glass jumping onto the catwalk. The lights beneath its feet made it larger then life-an unearthly daemon coming to punish those who dared disturb its rest.

Sherry shrieked.

"Shoot-"

David got no further. He had a tiger's mouth around his throat.

The military men fired. Sherry covered her ears-her eyes scanning across the holes of the catwalk-through the lights to where her supposed rescuer sat.

Their eyes locked, the thunder stopped around them.

"Trinity?"

Trinity's orange and striped body was a mass of bloody red.

"Trin? Trin are you okay?"

"Get back to your designated area doctor." James poked him gently with his rifle, "Mike-go get a goddamn clean up crew-but first put Birkin back in her cell."

"I'm sorry." Sherry burst out, "She was pretty."

Kevin looked up. His eyes saw her-and they hated.

Sherry bit her lip and let the military man in the black suit lead her away.

---------------------

Wolf's Bluff Ohio 

_Chris Redfield's Hospital Room _

Claire was trying to get Becky to eat her mashed peas.

"You don't have to stay with me." Chris smiled weakly, "I can take care of myself sis."

"Don't be ridiculous." Claire grinned, "I loved taking care of you-remember that time you caught the measles and you were all alone in your room and mom let me come in and bring you soup?"

"Nurse Claire." Chris laughed, "Gods that was a long time ago."

"NAAAGH." Becky batted away the spoon, "Muff."

"She doesn't like peas." Chris said, "Jill..."

Reality slapped them in the face, walked off to Vegas, and promptly won a huge Jackpot.

"They aren't going to press charges are they?" Claire looked up, "The woman?"

Chris breathed deep.

"She-she lost her arm Claire. I don't know what'll happen."

"They can't lock you in jail. You have to take care of Becky."

"I know."

"Earlier..." Claire said, "You said, "I know what to do." What were you talking about Bro?"

"First." Chris said, "I want to know what happened to you in the graveyard." He lowered his head and stared at her, "Now."

Claire thought about her brother's condition and about what he might do if he knew that Wesker was back in town. She had her own plans, but he...

"I was...I needed to leave that's all."

"Don't play dumb with me." Chris said, "You saw someone. Who?"

"Just a man...he said he came in to pay respects to Jill-an admirer of her work." Claire gulped.

A shadow crossed Chris's face and disappeared. The white walls of the room darkened and he sighed.

"Hand me Becky Claire."

"Okay..." she handed off the squirming child without a fight, "Anything you want."

"I just...want you to go away Claire."

Claire raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"I need to be by myself for a bit. Just an hour, maybe too...that's all I ask."

He raised his eyes to her-pleading.

"Oo-kay..."

She glanced back at her brother one last time before closing the door behind her.

"Claire!"

Claire raised her eyebrows. A man was jogging towards her; he wore a suit and tie and looked like he'd come from work.

"Claire-"he reached her and took a deep breath, "The police said that you-you-d be- here."

"Can I help you?"

The man raised his ice blue eyes and nodded slowly. Confusion crossed his face, the same expression mirrored in her eyes.

"Jack Birkin, remember? You knew my niece and my sister-in-law..."

"Oh!" Claire's smile turned to one of fake surprise and pleasure, "What are you doing here officer Birkin?"

Birkin's eyes narrowed and Claire instinctively shivered. There must have been something inherently creepy in their genetic makeup-she bet that Jack was a great cop in interrogation-just his gaze made her want to wet her pants.

"Sherry's gone missing. Kate figured that she'd come to see you."

Claire's eyes widened, "She hasn't even called me."

"Then she's missing." Jack shook his head, "And I have the distinct feeling she's in trouble."

------------------

A/N: There's chapter Five! Wooot! Tigers! Human Biological Weapons! I like the title of this chapter, because it not only refers to what the characters call "Human appearing Tyrants" (Like wesker) but also to humans in general-I mean its like-we're biological-and we have the potential to be weapons...


End file.
